Adebola Journal 6
The ninja seemed to fade into the background, lowering its face so the gleam of its eyes was hidden below its darkened cap. It shifted, senses alert for the slightest movement in the dark around it. The room was full of strange shadows, eerie distortions cast by the moon outside. Soon, its prey would come into reach and it would act. A tiny scuffing noise drew its attention; it leaped to attack, brushing aside the heavy cloth separating it from its foe. The ninja’s tremulous yell rang through the room. What? Nothing! Treacherous pirate! The darkness under the bed was complete but empty, and the tiny ninja straightened, lowering its katana. Another noise behind it, barely the whisper of cloth moving, and the dread pirate Duante was upon it, cutlass slashing wildly. The ninja spun and parried frantically, trying to throw off the attack, but the pirate was relentless, forcing the ninja back and back again, Soon, it was pressed against a wall, with nowhere to escape. “Yield, ye’ scurvy dog!” shouted the pirate, in a terrible feigned pirate accent. “Never, scummy pirate!” replied the defiant ninja. “Try to pronounce your ‘r’ a little sharper, Adie,” instructed the terrifying, deadly pirate. “And I’m not sure ninjas are supposed to talk.” “Ninjas can talk if they want to,” replied the ninja. “My handbook says we can do whatever we want, including breathing fire.” “Are you sure? I thought that was dragons,” the dirty pirate said politely. “And we’re losing momentum here, kiddo. Do ye’ yield, ye’ knave?” he asked, regaining his pirate voice. “Never,” roared the ninja (although it came out a bit squeakier than she intended). She grabbed the pirate’s cutlass in one gloved hand and yanked it hard, pulling the pirate off balance. To her surprise, he fell at her feet and she pointed her katana at his throat, the cutlass clattering to the floor. “Your turn to yield, scurve!” she crowed. “I’m not sure ‘scurve’ is a real word, either for pirates or ninjas,” replied the pirate. “And…look out!” In a gruesome, desperate act, the pirate tore off one of his own arms and flung it at the ninja who, shocked, tried to bat it away. The pirate leaped to attack her, flinging away the katana which skittered into the darkness. The pair wrestled for a few minutes, neither able to gain the upper hand. “I think it’s a draw, kiddo,” said the pirate panting. His drone didn’t need air but the manufacturer had added panting for verisimilitude. “What is ‘draw’?” asked the ninja, pulling away a little. “It means a tie, neither of us wins or loses,” replied the pirate. “Will you show how to do arm thing?” The pirate laughed. “I loosened it ahead of time. Surprised it didn’t work.” The two warriors rested in silence. “Much better control that time, Adie. Maybe a bit less yelling though,” the pirate muttered gruffly. “Ready for our trid?” The ninja nodded and both drones collapsed as their owners released them.